Give Me Hope, Drive Me Insane, and Make Me Laugh
by WellThisIsANewURLInnit
Summary: Series of drabble-ish oneshots about the twins and Rogue as children.
1. Chapter 1

**AN/ Based off the RP I did with G where Rogue, Wanda, and Pietro are regressed to five and four year olds respectively. Logan and Mystique are together, and taking care of Rogue, Jean and Scott are taking care of Wanda and Pietro and have recently claimed them as their own children. Just a series of short, adorable, and maybe even funny oneshots.**

_Jean's perspective_

Scott and I were rostered on to do the grocery shopping for this week, and we took the twins with us. Wanda and Pietro both begged us until they were almost blue in the face until Scott and I conceded to let them pick out some candy from the bulk bins. They got a big bag of it and were happy and smiling the whole rest of the time we were in the grocery market.

After we left the register and were rolling our two huge shopping carts full of food and supplies for the mansion, Wanda stopped and frowned.

"Daddy, why's that man all dirty and sad looking?" she asked, pointing to a homeless man sitting on the curb and holding out a can for coins anybody could spare.

Scott frowned and looked over. "Well, Wanda, he's homeless."

Pietro and Wanda's eyes widened and they both got identically sad looks on their faces.

"You mean he doesn't have a big, big house to live at with a daddy and mama like we do?" Pietro asked.

"Or lots and lots of aunts and uncles?" Wanda chimed in, remembering Hank, Ororo, Logan, Kurt, and the rest of the X-Men.

"Well… No."

The twins thought for a moment, then both reached for their big bag of candy, ran over to the homeless man, and dropped it on top of his coin can.

"Candy makes us happy," Wanda started.

"So you should have it!" Pietro finished.

The man was so happy he started to cry.

Those kids give me hope.


	2. Chapter 2

_Scott's Perspective_

I can't find my shoes.

I can't find them _anywhere._

I've looked where I always keep them, in the closet on the floor. I've looked in Jean's shoe rack under our bed. I've looked everywhere else in the room and all over the rest of our suite, even in the twin's room.

No. Where.

So I decide to look around the rest of the mansion, and the first thing that happens after I step out of the suite? I trip over my shoes and fall flat on my face.

I groan and sit up, grabbing my shoes. I'm about to stand up and walk back into the suite, when I see…

A long trail of shoes. Just shoes, shoes, shoes. My mouth drops wide open. What in the world is this?

I stand and start following the trail of shoes. It goes down the hallway, turns a left and goes down the main stairs, then goes down the right hallway in the foyer. It continues down that hallway all the way into the rec room, where I see a huge pile of nothing but sweaters. I'm serious, this pile of sweaters is gigantic, it has to be at least as big as the couch, if not bigger.

"What in the world…?" I trail off, walking up to the pile and picking up one of Ororo's favorite white cashmere sweaters.

And **BAM**. I'm _ambushed._ Suddenly, there's a fishing net over me, I'm down on the floor, and there is something very large and very metal-pan feeling smashing into my side over and over and over.

"Die monster, DIE!" I hear a high pitched voice shout as something hard is thrown at the back of my head.

"Wanda! Pietro! What is the meaning of this!" I shout, realizing who's attacking me.

"Daddy?" Wanda asks, stopping her assault with the pan.

"Yes! What are you doing!"

"Oh. We were gonna kill the monster."

"I want my baseball back," Pietro pipes up. So _that's_ what hit my head.

"Get me out of this thing!" I demand. They quickly untangle the net and I sit up, rubbing my side. I look at them for a moment. They're wearing metal mixing bowls on their heads and have cardboard armor duct-taped to their chests. "What monster are you talking about, anyway?"

"The one that lives in our closet," Wanda started.

"He eats shoes and lives in our sweaters. So we were going to lure him down here," Pietro continued.

"And kill him. But you've gone and messed it up! Now we need to set the nets back up!" Wanda finished grumpily.

"At least we didn't use the paintball guns yet," Pietro reassured his sister.

I do nothing more than stare dumbstruck at them for a moment, then fall back laughing.

These kids drive me insane.


	3. Chapter 3

_Jean's point of view_

I watched today as Wanda and Pietro sat down with their play group to eat lunch in the park. It's basically a whole bunch of three to seven year olds from around the neighborhood who play together at the same park.

The oldest child there, Talia, is a bully. I watched as she walked over to one of the meeker five year olds, Brandon, who was eating his peanut butter sandwich all alone under a tree. She grabbed his apple juice and spilled it all over him. Then she smashed his sandwich into his face.

I was about to get up and do something about it, since Brandon had started to cry and the other parents looked unconcerned, when Pietro picked up his lunch and walked over to the two.

He sat down next to Brandon and dumped his thermos of soup all over himself, then grinned up at Talia.

"If you're going to be a bully, you'll be alone forever. At least this guy's got a friend," he said, slinging an arm around Brandon's shoulders.

This kid gives me hope.


	4. Chapter 4

_Mystique's perspective_

One day, Anna and I were sitting together at the mall, eating ice cream. I swear the girl is an ice cream disposal system.

There is a couple at one of the tables near us, a black man and a white woman. Anna looks at them curiously and looks back to me.

"Mama, why are some people made brown and some people made white?"

Oh great. This is the question she asks in public.

"Well, sweetie… God makes everybody different. He decides whether you're black or white," I say, going with my son's religious approach.

Anna scowls. "That's stupid!"

I raise an eyebrow. "And how is that?"

"He shoulda made green people!"


	5. Chapter 5

_Scott's perspective_

"It was your turn to send out the insurance payment!" Jean insists on the twelfth of the month, the day we usually get the 'we received your payment' letter in the mail. This time, we got a late fee.

"No, it was your turn to send it, Jean," I sigh, rubbing my temples. We've been arguing for fifteen minutes straight, rather loudly, too.

"It was not my turn to send it! I sent it in December!"

"Yes! I know you did! That's why it was your turn to send the payment this month!"

"No it wasn't!"

"It's February!"

Jean was silent for a moment.

"It is, isn't it?"

I gave her a sharp nod.

We both stood their silent for a moment, her feeling stupid and me wanting an aspirin or a glass of scotch.

That was when Wanda and Pietro crept out of their room.

"Now make up," they ordered us. I raised an eyebrow.

"Hold hands," Pietro instructed. Jean and I looked at each other for a moment, then I took her hand.

"And sing the song," Wanda said.

"The song?" Jean asked.

Pietro rolled his eyes. "I love you, you love me, we're a happy family…" he trailed off.

They made us sing the whole Barney song. These kids make me laugh.


End file.
